Comparing - edit

[billy]

i read it and i don't want to critique it. at best i'd say leave it as is, at worse i'd say cut a few words like but and just. but be judicious is you do. rarely do i read something on here that i think needs nothing doing to it. and for that i'm sorry. this is one of your best pieces duke

i like the story telling style you wrote it in as an advisory for others. it also captures something of what a soldier would think about on pay day. i just read it again. loved it.

Comparing


When I was soldiering, commanders said,
“Never compare your paycheck with the guy should it be pay check or is that just the english way?
who’s sitting next to you.” They meant he might
have less deducted, alimony, tax,
more time in grade, years prior service, or
incentive pay for special skills he’d learned.
Since inequality seeds envy, they,
with discipline and unity in mind,
suggested we stay ignorant and blind.

That’s long ago, but once you set aside
Command’s self-serving motives, there remains
a core of wisdom in that sage advice
because no-one gets just what he deserves–
not sunny days or friendship, joy or fame,
not suffering, dismissal, pain, or grief
get added up by some celestial clerk;
our acts don’t spin a giant cosmic wheel
that brings around comeuppance or reward.

So as you stand beside my bier don’t try
comparing all you have with what I got.
Our pay stubs will be equal when we’re done:
for item, “Lives,” our numbers will be “one.”

When I was soldiering they used to say,
“Never compare your paycheck with the guy
next to you.” What they meant was that he might
have less deducted, taxes, sort of thing,
more time in grade, years prior service, or
incentive pay for hazardous pursuits.
Since inequality seeds envy, they,
with discipline and unity in mind,
suggested we stay ignorant and blind.

That’s long ago, now, but to set aside
Command’s self-serving motives, there remains
a core of wisdom in their cold advice
because nobody gets what he deserves–
not length of days, nor friendship, joy, or fame,
not suffering, ignominy, and grief
are toted up by some celestial clerk;
nor do our deeds impel a cosmic wheel
that brings around comeuppance or reward.

So as you stand beside my bier don’t try
comparing all I got with what you have.
Our pay stubs will be equal when we’re done:
for item, “Lives,” the number’s always “one.”

Subtitle "Contra Karma" considered, but unnecessary?  "Crying Over My Bier," on the other hand, didn't seem properly Kippled.